The Brickyard (Williamsport, Pennsylvania)

On my almost-annual Memorial Day trip to Williamsport, I was delighted to learn that there was a new restaurant in town – The Brickyard – so that my friends and I could branch out from our usual Bullfrog Brewery / T.G.I. Friday’s rut. As my mom dropped me off to meet LKM for dinner, she said, “You’ll walk back between two buildings where they tore down another building,” which sounds totally sketchy, but the area outside the Brickyard was anything but. A nicely landscaped stone walkway led back to the restaurant, which had a number of tables outside, and a huge window opened up to a wide ledge for eating outdoors on high stools. This is not the Williamsport I’m used to.

While LKM and I waited for our burgers, I headed to the restroom, which was marked by a sign that said, “Pay Toilet / 10 Cents / Drop Coin / Turn Handle.” Fortunately, this was just a decoration – how annoying would that be if we often had to pay to use public restrooms? The only times I’ve actually seen this were in the Cotswolds in England and at Machu Picchu in Peru. When I returned to the table, LKM asked how the bathroom was, and my answer was, “Eh. Middle of the road.” The restroom was clean (this generally scores points), and it wasn’t completely blah and antiseptic, with white tile or stainless steel (decorations like “pay toilet” signs also score points), but it didn’t have much to offer inside, other than a small granite sink with an antique brass faucet, and rustic-looking wooden stalls edged with black-painted metal – I did like these stalls very much. The Brickyard also advertised via a sign on the mirror that they would be closed on Memorial Day.

Despite its middle-of-the-road restroom, I’m delighted that The Brickyard has opened in Williamsport, and I look forward to more meals there on future trips back home. My medium rare burger was perfectly medium rare, and the enormous serving of fries was deliciously seasoned and had the perfect French fry consistency. Ah, burgers and fries…

Restroom Rating: [rating=2]

Ricketts Glen State Park

I have a very outdoorsy father, so I grew up riding in the car for what seemed like endless hours on summer weekends so that we could hike and picnic in one of Pennsylvania’s many beautiful state parks. For the most part, I hated this: I got horribly carsick in my childhood, and I do not like charred hotdogs or my dad’s overcooked burgers (he and my mother prefer well-done beef). The one saving grace was that my mom generally made brownies for these otherwise painful picnics — but what made everything much, much better was when we headed to Ricketts Glen State Park, a gorgeous piece of forest with 22 waterfalls on its aptly named Falls Trail, including the 94-foot Ganoga Falls. Ricketts Glen was a bit farther away than the other parks we frequented, so these trips were on the rarer side, but they would never hear me complain from the back seat, no matter how sick I got, because I loved hiking the Falls Trail so much.

I hadn’t been to Ricketts Glen for five years, so on a trip back home to Pennsylvania, I suggested we spend the day there, picnic included (although a more gourmet type, with asparagus, radish and potato salad, and decidedly NOT overcooked BBQ grilled steak burgers). It was a fantastic picnic and a fantastic hike, but I had to use the dreaded outhouse! However, just as I’ve grown out of carsickness, I’ve grown out of my fear of outhouses because, somewhat unpleasant aromas and requisite squeaky doors aside, it’s pretty apparent that I will not fall into the toilet. Still, I’d prefer a real restroom and was pleased to see that they’d built new ones at the top of the Falls Trail since I lasted visited the park. The building, which contains two family-style “onesies” (i.e., toilet, urinal and baby changing station inside each), is appropriately campground-y, with stone pillars and beautiful exposed wood. I hadn’t seen in a urinal in quite a while, so I was caught off guard when I opened the door. When my father saw me taking photos of the bathroom building, he told me to note that they were waterless urinals, and thus better for the environment.

Restroom Rating: [rating=2]

New-York Historical Society (Caffè Storico)

I recently went to Caffè Storico, the newish restaurant in the New-York Historical Society (77th St. and Central Park West), and was so in love with its fresh, airy decor (bright yellow upholstery! golden chandeliers! shelves lined with pretty dinnerware!) that I looked forward to seeing what the restroom had in store. Big disappointment…

Turns out Caffè Storico doesn’t have its own bathroom, so you have to leave the restaurant and use the museum’s restroom around the corner. After ordering, I asked the waitress where the bathroom was so that I could use it at my leisure — but she was so overly gracious (to the point that everything on the wine was “beautiful,” including the Italian wines) that she immediately offered to lead me there. So I awkwardly left my brunch partner behind, and traipsed through the whole restaurant and past the gift shop to wash off the city grime that had accumulated on my hands during a successful pre-brunch shopping excursion to find caffeine-free espresso grinds (they sell it at Gracious Home). Museums, I’ve found, tend to have boring, overly antiseptic restrooms with white tile and stainless steel, and the New-York Historical Society was much the same. Its one saving grace was a pale, frosted reproduction of a painting of a family — mother, father and child — on the restroom sign, along with the traditional man and woman silhouettes, as well as a special one featuring an adult changing a baby’s diaper. Inside the bathroom, right next to the Koala Kare station, there was a glossy advertisement for the museum’s iPhone and Android app; I can’t say I’ve seen that before.

The menu featured such unique dishes that I had trouble deciding but finally landed on polenta and eggs with a mushroom ragu; the presentation was outstanding, with beautiful poached eggs swimming in mushroom sauce atop the mound of polenta, all framed by two triangles of toasted bread. My meal was tasty, but it sadly did not live up to its description or its appearance. I may not go back to the New-York Historical Society for the food at Caffè Storico, but I’d like to go back to see the exhibits, and I’ll keep its gift shop — one of the best I’ve seen — in mind next time I want to buy some New York-themed tchotchkes.

Restroom Rating: [rating=1]

 

Agave

On Cinco de Mayo, we set out to find the city’s best margarita, beginning with Agave (7th Avenue between Charles and 10th Streets).

K’s feedback on the bathroom was that it was “not interesting” but
required a fascinating “journey.” I was intrigued — and she was
right. You descended a couple of flights of narrow stairs surrounded
by whitewashed walls and thick-silled “windows” that made me feel very
much like I was entering a very old hacienda or mission. Once
downstairs, there was a large, river stone-topped hutch outside the
restrooms, topped with a wood-framed mirror and a glass bowl full of
water and more river stones. The doors to the men’s and women’s rooms
were very pretty, constructed of slats in a chevron pattern. The
bathroom itself was more interesting than K gave it credit for, featuring
white Venetian doors, antiqued brass sink hardware, a tall wooden vase
with grass-like foliage and — of course — Pepto Bismol pink soap.

Bathroom aside, Agave didn’t live up to my expectations. They were
listed as having one of the best margaritas in NYC, and my blood
orange and passion fruit margarita was good but not mind-blowing. (Not sure I’m
a good judge, though, considering how much I love Blockhead’s
syrupy-sweet $4 frozen margaritas.) Also, the service was terrible; we
sat at the bar for several minutes before the bartender even looked at
us — and the restaurant was quite empty. I don’t think I’ll go back,
considering my so-so beverage cost over $10.

Restroom Rating: [rating=4]

Trailer Park

Trailer Park (23rd St. and 8th Ave.) is one of those kitschy retro dives with metal signs hanging all over the walls, advertising things like Orange Crush, Aqua Net and No Vacancy, and its restroom is equally so.

To begin, I often post about the ubiquity of Pepto Bismol pink hand soap; well, Trailer Park took the color and ran with it, creating a women’s “powder room” (according to the rose-bedecked sign) that’s pink from top to bottom: light pink tiles, spotted pink wallpaper, flamingos on the mirror. Even the handicapped bars were painted their own special shade of pink! But Trailer Park also went for a natural theme, covering the door with bamboo and using a deer’s antlers to hold a sign that pointed the way to the restrooms. Good bathroom story: There was no toilet paper, so I went out to the bar, and the bartender kindly gave me a roll. Apparently, she’d also told the female custodial engineer — and, apparently, I hadn’t twisted the lock the whole way. As I was washing my hands, said engineer burst in to add more rolls of toilet paper to the stash, and quietly went about the process. Which was fine, really, because I was just washing my hands. But how weird / awkward / insane is it that she just stayed in the bathroom while I was in there, too? It takes the whole “bathroom attendant” thing to a new level.

Overall, Trailer Park is a fun place with cheap frozen drinks that will make you feel as if you’ve walked into an alternate reality, kind of like Réunion, especially because, in this reality, potty time is not necessarily personal time.

Restroom Rating: [rating=5]

Pershing Square Signature Center

I’ve mentioned before my recent obsession with Broadway — well, it’s expanded to theater in general, and I’ll grab cheap tickets for anything and everything. Most recently, I went to see “My Children! My Africa!” at the Pershing Square Signature Center (480 W. 42nd Street). The Signature Center is a gorgeous contemporary theater space. I’m a big fan of the ornate old theaters on Broadway, but there’s something so clean and refreshing about a minimalist building, especially when you’re going to see a bleak, tense play, as opposed to a toe-tappin’, over-the-top musical.

The restroom was sleek and spare, too, with turquoise tiles and arched sink faucets that released a perfectly smooth stream of water. My favorite feature were the toilets; the seats and lids were rounded rectangles instead of the usual ovals. I also liked the entrance: a huge blue-and-white painting of a man took up the entire wall outside the women’s room (I wish I had noted who the man was; he probably loves or loved theater even more than I do).

“My Children! My Africa!” was one of the most powerful performances I’ve ever seen, despite having only three actors and no set changes. It had been a long week, and I didn’t feel like a 2.5-hour show after work, but I’m so glad I didn’t bail and stuck it through the first act, because the second act was INSANE. One of the three characters is a teacher who speaks at length about the magic of words, and as a writer, that really hit home for me. I left the theater dead tired, dodging raindrops as I dashed to Times Square to catch the train home, but I didn’t want the feeling to end. It’s fascinating how art can transport and transform you.

Restroom Rating: [rating=4]

Brooklyn Bridge Park

The final stop for my birthday party was beautiful Brooklyn Bridge Park, where we rode Jane’s Carousel and had a bridge photo op / “modeling shoot,” and I realized I haven’t done cartwheels in at least a decade… Pretty sure I tore some sort of muscle or tendon as I catapulted myself across the glorious emerald green grass between the Brooklyn and Manhattan Bridges.

Like most public parks, Brooklyn Bridge Park’s public restroom options are limited — we didn’t do a full canvas of the park, but we spotted a portapotty whose door had been left wide open that you could see into the heavily graffiti-ed interior. Rammy declared it too gross to use, but I would not be opposed in an emergency, especially if I had hand sanitizer in my bag. Luckily, park-goers can always follow in the footsteps of brides and make their way to One Girl Cookies to use its much more pleasant potty — and perhaps even grab a coffee or a cupcake with blue icing. (Yes, Mom! My three-year-old self is not the only person who wants her cake frosted with a slathering of blue!)

Long story short: Brooklyn Bridge Park is wonderful, from the panoramic view of the Manhattan skyline and its famous bridges to the $2 rides on the restored carousel, but I’d suggest making a pitstop at one of the neighborhood’s many restaurants, bars and shops before heading to the park.

Restroom Rating: [rating=0]

 

One Girl Cookies

After Superfine, my birthday train headed to nearby One Girl Cookies (33 Main St. at Water St. in Dumbo) for coffee…and to watch brides and quinceañera princesses try to fit their massive tulle skirts through the bathroom door. Apparently, Dumbo is THE place to have weddings and celebrations, and for some reason, One Girl Cookies’ toilet is a hot commodity for these parties. Bridesmaids in sparkly aqua dresses helped a stressed-out bride use the bathroom, and 15 minutes later, a 15-year-old girl in an enormous pale pink dress came in with her crew of teenage friends. There are few things funnier than casually sipping a mocha with your friends during your birthday party, while watching MULTIPLE GROUPS of women help other women, all dressed in glitter and tiaras, take care of business in a public bathroom on the “most special day of their lives.”

Once the princess parade died down, I took my turn and was impressed by the fresh cuteness of One Girl Cookies’ restroom, which could be why it’s the bathroom of choice for brides. The white and aqua wallpaper has an intricate swirly pattern, and it nicely matched the Tiffany blue china cabinet — the odd thing, though, was that the cupboard was completely empty, and the two doors at the bottom were slightly ajar. I wondered what the point of the cabinet was if it had nothing in it; the three empty shelves behind glass doors could be filled with so many beautiful things! The bathroom was out of toilet paper, but someone had smartly — and kindly — stowed a stash of napkins atop the toilet. A good thing, too: having no toilet paper substitute would be likely to push some bridezillas over the edge.

All the treats at One Girl Cookies looked amazing, but they were also laden with gluten… So I drank my soy mocha and watched my friends eat pumpkin whoopie pies. (It’s all good; K baked me an ENORMOUS gluten-free chocolate cake the next day!)

Restroom Rating: [rating=3]

Superfine

I was excited to celebrate my 28th birthday at Bubby’s, one of my new favorite venues, but  Bubby’s sadly had other ideas, and the entire space was booked for a wedding. We re-routed to nearby Superfine (126 Front Street in Dumbo), which have me the opportunity to experience a new — and quite blog-worthy — restroom, which sort of sweetened the fact that my birthday plans were dashed.

Superfine’s decor is appropriately hipster for a Brooklyn bar / restaurant, with vintage diner tables mishmashed with grandma-style furniture, bright paper lanterns, and framed photos of vicious canines and slabs of meat. And the bathroom is equally so. Two high-fiving skeleton figurines are hanging out above the entrance to the ladies’ room, and are fully decked out in 2012 glasses, Easter Bunny ears, Mardi Gras beads and an Italian flag; these guys are ready to party, no matter what holiday it is. The “door” to the bathroom is strands of red tinsel, and when you’ve passed through this, you return to Grandma Land (could we call that “Landma”?), with pea-green walls, a vase of fresh hydrangeas, a sink on a metal stand, a mirror with an elaborate carved frame, antique tin ceiling tiles and a 1960s-ish piece of art that looks like a bedazzled bonsai tree. It was excellently random,
just like the rest of Superfine.

I was pleased with Superfine as a last-minute replacement for Bubby’s: they  accommodated us in an open space by the pool table, had delicious skinny French fries that are literally “super fine” in both taste and appearance, and served up large, extra-spicy bloody marys  garnished with several olives. I stuck to decaf coffee, which was nothing
extraordinary but better than the sludge that comes out of the machine at my office, and Superfine does offer Sugar in the Raw. Overall, a great experience — the only things missing were Bubby’s peanut butter pie and stunning view of the Brooklyn and Manhattan Bridges, but the walk from Superfine to Brooklyn Bridge Park was short, so we still got
to have a photo shoot with the bridges.

Restroom Rating: [rating=4]